Glasses: The Sequel
by Italy's Driving
Summary: After the last... escapade involving America's glasses, there was bound to be another one. Rated T for safety. Story is better than summary. I promise.


Glasses: The Sequel

 **Wow, okie. Bad title is bad. Please forgive the title, I'm not good at titles. Anyway, I was planning on having Glasses just be a one shot and leave it at that but… a certain Birdie wanted me to write a sequel. Non, it wasn't Canada. Don't even know who Canada is. Ha ha, kidding. Please don't kill me. Anyway. This is for ThePatheticProfession, who asked for a sequel while wondering about France, Hungary and Russia's reactions. Naturally, the RusAme shipper in me squealed in happiness and then nearly died. Speaking of Canada, though, DISCLAIMER TIME!**

 **Canada: Italy's Driving does not own Hetalia. We belong to Hidekaz Himaruya, eh.**

 **Kumajiro: Who are you?**

 **Canada: I'm Canada.**

 ***pushes Canada out* Yeah, yeah, go moan about your life problems somewhere else. I have things to do! Onto the story**

STILL REALLY SORRY ABOUT THE LINE BREAKS

After the last World Summit Meeting, America was considerably… apprehensive about going to the next one. Of course, he would go. He had to. It was only right. But, he'd probably just avoid a few Nations in particular. AKA Germany, Japan and Italy. Mostly Italy. It wasn't that he was scared of them. Oh no, he was the hero! He couldn't be afraid of some little coward. That just happens to be a gigantic pervert that may have called America delicious. Which is, yeah, freaky. Yes, the author _totally_ believes America. Getting away from that gigantic break in the Fourth Wall, America wasn't scared. He was wary. Which was a perfectly natural thing to be when one had the serious chance of being attacked just for taking of their glasses. And not in the usual sense of attacked. Although, so far, the meeting seemed to be going normally. Of course, Germany was blushing furiously whenever he looked at America and Japan was drawing whenever America was near him, but that he could deal with. Italy as back to being perfectly sweet and likeable, though that may be the added presence of a very protective Canada. They may not see him, but Canadians weren't called scare soldiers for nothing!

It was, naturally, during a break in the meeting that it happened. One second, America was munching happily on a piece of apple pie (homemade by Georgia. That girl really did spoil him). The next, he was sprawled on the ground after being tackled by a certain fort-turned-Micronation. This, of course, sent America's glasses careening across the floor from him. And under a cabinet. America peered down at Sealand, lips pulled back in a thin, disapproving line.

"Sealand," America said, helping the Micronation to his feet, "You shouldn't run indoors. You could get hurt, then where would we be? I know where I would be, six feet under. Because that's where Sweden'd put me." Sealand was just peering up at America with wide eyes and a slowly reddening face.

"You… you look like a girl!" Sealand clapped a hand over his mouth after his word vomit. America blinked, staring down at the Micronation.

"Um, I'm sorry," America said, hoping to God that he hadn't heard right. An arm slung around his shoulder, America turned his attention to Italy. (How the Italian had managed to reach America's shoulders, was unknown)

"Ve~ Do we need to go over this again," Italy purred. Which shouldn't be possible. As America was sure not even Nations could purr. Although, with Greece, who could know for sure? America spun away from the Mediterranean Nation, putting his hands up.

"No, no we most certainly do not." America started backing up as Italy took a step forward, "Would you like me to repeat it in another language? No! Nej! Nyet! Non! Niama! Méiyǒu! Ei! Óchi! Nein! I can keep going!" Italy smirked.

"Ohonhonhonhonhonhonhonhonhon~ Amerique, I never knew you looked so good without your glasses," France said, pulling America into his arms. America scrunched his face up.

"Uh, dude? Wouldja mind letting me go," America said. France chuckled, America could feel the vibrations from the romantic Nation's chest. France's hands wandered across America's chest.

"Hm… I don't think so, no." France trailed his hand to America's chin, making the younger Nation shiver.

"France, no," America said seriously. France sighed, but let the other blonde go. America straightened his suit, and turned to the other Nations. "Well. Is anyone going to help me find my glasses?" The only answer was a wail from the back of the group. Hungary pushed herself forward.

"No! Get back with France, I need to finish my basic sketch," Hungary shrieked. Japan was immediately by her side, looking at her sketch and comparing the two. She let him.

"Erm, sorry Hungary, but no," America responded, rubbing the back of his head.

"I'm sorry, I must've misunderstood you." Hungary shoved her sketches into Japan's arms and held up her frying pan. Several Nations flinched at the memories of what that frying pan could do, America included.

"I don't think Amerika wants to, da," Russia said. America felt relief flood his heart. Russia wouldn't let him get hit by a frying pan, right? Their rivalry really wasn't that bad. Hungary held her frying pan up, but was swiftly distracted by Prussia bothering Austria. The woman swept off and America let out a break of relieved air. Russia pushed America's glasses back onto his face and led the shorter into the hallway.

"You are alright, da," Russia asked, looking oddly concerned. America nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine," America said. Russia nodded and swept back to the door. "Wait, why did you help me?" Russia stopped and stuck his head out of the door.

"You are my greatest enemy, da? Which means only I can torment you." With those parting words, Russia disappeared and left a very confused America behind. _I need to start making sure these don't fall off anymore. That was kinda freaky._

YOU GUYS ARE STILL PISSED ABOUT THE LINE BREAKS AREN'T YOU

 **Wow. So. Sequels are harder to write than the initial story. I kinda like it though. Okie, so I was randomly scrolling through Himaruya's blog (the translated, dorks. I speak many languages [eight, to be exact] but Japanese is not one of them) and I found a very interesting picture. It was a drawing of America and Italy. Over Italy's head, it had "slender" and over America's it had "big-boned" in terms of bpdy types. Anyway, what I found extremely interesting was the arrows. Between them were these arrows. One pointed from Italy to America and the other from America to Italy. The one from Italy to America said (and I quote) "America~~!" while the other said "Kinda interesting". Which basically means that all of you who are saying Italy doesn't care about America, he's more interested and excited about America than America is about him. Which, I find hilarious. Anyway, I made France immediately back off when America clearly stated that no, he did not want France touching him because France is the country of love, not lust. He asks the cutie before he touches the booty. That is my new catchphrase. Also, if you really listen to the English dub, Italy is a really big pervert. So I'm trying to stay true to his character. Anywho~ I should go finish the next chapter of that other thing I'm working on.**

 **This is ID saying;** _ **That's All Folks!**_


End file.
